


Shining Like Gun Metal, Cold and Unsure

by Eradite



Category: Hogan's Heroes (TV 1965)
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Episode Related: s04e20 Klink's Old Flame, M/M, Mutual Pining, Shaving, Unresolved Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 10:40:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24469627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eradite/pseuds/Eradite
Summary: His eyes are full of truths Klink does not dare to believe in.
Relationships: Robert Hogan/Wilhelm Klink
Comments: 17
Kudos: 57





	Shining Like Gun Metal, Cold and Unsure

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: As a gay woman, I am blissfully ignorant about male facial shaving habits. This is based on wwii shaving reenactment videos on yt. “Friend of Dorothy” is a vintage coded expression for being gay.

"Brahms, Beethoven, Mahler… do you have something livelier to listen to?" Hogan calls from the living room.

Klink winces like a hurt animal.

"What do you mean - livelier? They are master composers; their brilliance is livelier than anything."

"Let me rephrase it, do you have a record with someone singing? And I certainly do not mean an opera?"

"Yes, look at the right upper side of the cabinet. What are you still doing here anyway?" Klink responds and slips a day coat over his shirt and the plain trousers that he just changed into.

"Keeping you company after a long eventful day." Hogan explains like it is the most normal thing to do. Hogan had followed him into his quarters after Klink had tidied up the mess in his office and he is now going through his record collection.

"Very kind of you, Hogan, really. But you can go now."

"But we haven't celebrated our victory yet."

The upward joyful notes of Cole Porter’s Let’s Misbehave start to flow through the rooms when Klink enters the living room and he has to chuckle from the absurdity. It feels natural, whenever the two of them spend time together, and he quietly wishes it would happen more often. Their relationship has been on stable ground since they started actively working together and Klink has not been a mere tool in Hogan's schemes anymore. It became a secret collection of stolen moments for Klink which will be nothing more than daydreams on slow days and early nights.

"Well, serve yourself. I opened a new bottle of brandy yesterday," he remarks and nods to the bottle on the shelf.

"Don't you want some?"

"No, I'm going to shave now," he declines. He still feels dizzy from the rations of coffee that he had to drink and the chaos that was the day. He just wants to feel clean and tidy again and preferably fall asleep to forget about the whole disaster. He turns and walks back in the direction of his bathroom.

"You should leave it," says Hogan, who follows him promptly and leans against the door frame of the bedroom.

Klink finds himself momentarily at a loss of words and his heart rate speeds up so much that he feels it pumping in his ears.

"Pardon?" He manages to croak out.

"I said you should leave it." Hogan repeats patiently.

"No, thank you. It is against protocol for German soldiers." Klink regains his composure just to lose it again when Hogan says, "It suits you."

Klink pauses and stares at him a bit helpless before it comes to him that Hogan is probably just mocking him. Yet, Hogan had been all over him the whole day. The way he held his arm like he indeed could not keep himself upright, how he pressed himself against his body when reaching for the wine bottle, and the lingering fingers on the small of his back or his steady hand on his shoulder. How their fingers touched when Hogan was handing him the cup of coffee. He is endlessly fond of the riveting smile Hogan gave him when they realized that their plan was working. And Klink does not only enjoy it, he indulges in it. The touch burns into his skin, and he makes sure to memorize every single detail. That is all he gets after all. It does not help that Hogan makes him blush and bluster with the most mundane things. So subtle, that he regularly thinks he’s imagining it but it gets to him every time. It nags at him, driving him slowly mad with not knowing what Hogan's intentions are.

"Hogan stop getting on my nerves. Drink your brandy and leave me in peace." Klink says with an attempt to distract him, his voice unsteady.

Hogan just shrugs his shoulders, obviously unimpressed. Klink turns and basically flees into his bathroom. He carefully prepares his shaving kit and lets the water run hot in the sink. He silently hopes that Hogan would just leave, he cannot handle this kind of intimacy very well that Hogan creates so casually.

"I'm sorry that you lost the promotion." Hogan says from the other room.

"It's probably for the better anyway. I could have lost the position here after all."

"And we really don't want that."

"No, I don't think you do, Hogan." Especially, since he provides regularly information, Klink thinks.

When he sneaks a peak outside, Hogan sits on his bed and sips on the brandy. He sighs internally, applies shaving soap and starts to shave. He slides the blade down his right cheek and immediately nicks his skin. "Ouch!"

He puts the blade down and inspects the injury.

"Do you need help, Sir?"

Hogan stands in the doorway, his weight shifting with agitation and a worried look in his eyes, but Klink can see a smugness in the dimples forming on his cheeks.

"No, certainly not!" he bursts out.

"Let me do it."

Hogan says it very softly and to his surprise he cannot determine the slightest mocking tint in his voice that Klink expects whenever Hogan says something outrageous like this. Also, the smugness is gone when he eyes him suspiciously. His heart palpitates in an alarming manner, and it is with some effort that he maintains eye contact.

"What, no. I hardly think this is necessary," he says in the coolest and level tone that he can manage.

"Why not? Your hands are all shaky due to all the coffee we gave you. You just keep on hurting yourself."

"Hogan, no." Klink basically pleads.

“Wilhelm,” Hogan says quietly, “I insist.”

He looks at Klink with a haunting intensity, and with the flavor of something else Klink could not quite identify. His resistance melts when Hogan uses his given name and he knows that he is not able to resist him. Klink nods slowly, his hands bracing against his hips.   
Hogan's face lights up in a smile.

"Stay right here," he commands and leaves the room. Klink hears the music change to Mozart and when Hogan comes back, he carries one of the bar stools that are kept in the pantry.

"Here, sit down and you will see my every step in the mirror. I'm not going to kill you."

"Why, thank you, Hogan. I consider this as a precondition."

Klink tries to force himself to sit down naturally, but he ends up being perched rigidly on the edge. His muscles are tense, and he does not know where to put his hands. When he finally settles on his middle, he rubs his hands nervously. He tries to avoid looking Hogan in his eyes but watches his every movement. It is clear that Hogan has a plan, but he is too curious to interfere.

Flicking glances at him, Klink discreetly studies Hogan’s face illuminated in the glow of the bathroom light. His expression is relaxed. He does not seem nervous at all. Hogan rolls his sleeves up on both arms. Need twists inside Klink's stomach. He stares at the muscles of his forearms until Hogan turns the sink on and lets the water run steaming hot. He takes the green washcloth from the sink and lets it soak in the hot water. When he seems to be satisfied, Hogan takes the washcloth out, wrings and folds it.

Hogan turns back to him and his eyes focus on his face and he looks so kind and trustworthy that it causes a flutter in Klink’s stomach. He is sure Hogan has never looked at him like this before. He is sure no one has ever looked at him like this before. Klink inhales too harshly, and his cheeks heat up as well. He hopes Hogan does not notice, or if he does, just ignores it.

When Klink does not stop him, Hogan presses the damp washcloth to Klink’s jaw and neck, removing the residues of Klink's attempt, moistening the skin and the stubble. Klink grimaces as the hotness stings on his skin first, but the unexpected warmth relaxes him quickly. Hogan chuckles in response and meets his eyes for a second. Then he turns to put the washcloth into the water. Klink watches him pick up the white-blue shaving soap tin and the abandoned brush. He sniffs at it and then rubs the brush in the soap in rhythmic circles.

"Please, use it frugally. It's all I have left." Klink finds his voice again.

"Oh, it's the good stuff," says Hogan and pauses his movement to eye the lid. "Klarseife Heidelberg. Seit 1840," he reads with faked awe, "Nice."

Klink rolls his eyes, but Hogan circles the brush a few more times, just to mess with him, Klink is sure about that. Then he moves directly in front of him and pushes his head slightly up and meets his eyes again. Klink is painfully tense and has to force himself into a normal breathing pattern. His gaze gradually sweeps up Hogan's body, the soft lines of his waist, the rise of his chest, his broad shoulders looking strong and welcoming, and back down along his forearms.

"Take care of your lips, will you?" Hogan says softly.

Klink presses his lips together and tucks them in. Hogan starts applying the soap across his jaw, over his top lip and down his neck. Hogan slides his fingers over his skin to seek the stubble patches to make sure everything is covered. Klink stops breathing and sits perfectly still, not daring to move.

"You can breathe again," Hogan says in return and turns to put the brush down on the sink. He rinses his hands off and dries them with one of the towels. Out of spite, Klink waits a few more moments before he takes a breath again.

Hogan picks up Klink's razor blade and this time he is impressed, Klink can tell immediately by the shine in his eyes. His blade is exquisite, he knows. It is a handmade Aristocrat blade from Solingen, angled beautifully and reflecting the bathroom light with its long curve where the brand name is engraved. The cover is made from ivory and equally engraved in an elegant writing.

Hogan whistles. "Well, if this isn't a gem!"

Klink cannot leave his eyes from Hogan. He looks so handsome when being enamored like this. When he eyes the blade in Hogan's hand, the open angle of it with three of his fingers on the back of the blade, it looks intense, dangerous, and shines like gun metal, downright mesmerizing.

"It belonged to my father. He left it to me."

"It is very precious to you, I guess?"

"It truly is. The blade is all I have left of him."

"I'll be careful."

"Thank you."

Hogan winks at him before he positions himself behind Klink. Their eyes meet in the mirror and something indefinable passes between them. Then, Hogan uses one finger to tip his chin upward and presses a little on his forehead, tilts his head up a little more so his neck is stretched. Klink feels the warmth of Hogan behind him and he can see in the mirror that he just needs to tilt his head a little to be able to touch him.

Klink has not realized until now just how close they are - Hogan is looking down at him, his eyes dark in the low bathroom light. The sight is so casually breath-taking that Klink wants to memorize and store it in his mind, along with all the other times Hogan has left him stunned over the years.  
Klink inhales sharply when Hogan brings the blade up to the side of his cheek. Yet, the first stroke is gentle and incredibly careful. Hogan shaves the flat of his left cheek and breaks the silence.

"You've never kissed her until today."

Panic swells in him and he wonders if Hogan just wanted him to be in a vulnerable situation to manipulate him after all. He looks at him for a moment that seems to stretch into eternity, until something shifts in Hogan's eyes and Klink senses something completely else.

"No, I did not," he answers cautiously.

Hogan just hums in response.

He leans over his right side now, gently turns Klink’s head a little bit, tracing his skin on to find the rough patches and shaves it meticulously. After he is satisfied, he hovers over his head to carefully shave around his bottom lip and the space between his nose and upper lip. Once that is done, Klink relaxes his mouth.

"Have you wanted to?"

"Who would not? She was a smart and lovely girl." Klink avoids giving a clear answer.

Meanwhile, Hogan repeats the process, sliding his fingers over the freshly shaven skin to determine if he needs a second pass to clean up the stubbly spots.

"You're right," he says, "who wouldn't."

Klink feels the atmosphere in the room shift. He feels it in Hogan's lingering touch on his face, sees it in the flicker of eye contact whenever he pulls away to clean the blade, and he senses it down into his bones and feels paralyzed, unable to express what he wants to say. Hogan seems to read his mind.  
He leans down and whispers confidentially into his ear.

"What I think is that we both have a lovely lady friend called Dorothy that no one can know of. We just handle it differently, I over-compensate and you, well you do the opposite."

Klink’s breath catches in his throat and he cannot make his mouth work. He fights back the shiver that his voice sent crawling up his spine. He is confronted with something he deems impossible.

"Why?" Klink clears his throat, "why now?"

"Why do you think?"

They stare in the mirror, and Hogan slowly runs a finger over his shoulder. His eyes are full of truths Klink does not dare to believe in. He's nervous too, Klink can tell. And he is sure that Hogan is prepared to twist his own words into something entirely else, to plead for plausible deniability if necessary. If someone can pull off something like that, it would be Hogan, Klink concludes.

Hogan stops and eyes the lower half of his face and his neck still covered in shaving soap.

"What?" asks Klink suspiciously.

"Maybe I should leave you just like this.” Hogan casts him a smile and casually slides his hand down his shoulder, giving him a light squeeze.  
“Don't you dare!” Klink huffs and gets agitated.

"Don't move. I won't." Hogan reassures him.

Klink sighs through his nose.

Hogan gently tilts his head back. This time, Klink is pressed against Hogan's chest. He has to close his eyes as the scent that is so inherently Hogan surrounds him. Whatever it is, he knows that he desires more of it.

Hogan hums, "I don't want to hurt you, so keep still."

He shaves Klink's neck carefully and deliberately slow as if he wants to elongate the process. He slows down even more around Klink's Adam's apple. It isn’t until Hogan's lingering tender touches, Klink starts to think maybe he isn’t alone in this. 

"Have I missed a spot?"

Klink hesitates, then runs a hand over his smooth jaw down his neck. "No, you haven't," he concludes.

Hogan separates himself from him and Klink immediately feels the loss. For the last time, Hogan rinses the blade off, dries it and slides the cover over it. Then he positions it carefully in its box on the sink. He takes the washcloth and holds it under running hot water, wrings it out.

Klink wants to reach for him, but then Hogan turns around and lowers himself in front of him, so they are eye to eye. Klink violently tries to shove away the mental pictures running through his head. Hogan carefully removes the last traces of the shaving soap off his face, his eyes do not leave Klink's. It is so intimate he can hardly stand it.

Klink cannot fight it anymore, he reaches out and tentatively settles his hand over Hogan's on his jaw, stretches his fingers and slides them together. He wants him so badly; it burns hot and painful in his chest. Hogan stills and uses his other hand to put the washcloth in the sink behind him.

"You do things to me,” Klink whispers.

"Likewise." Hogan says, his gaze gentle and fond as he scans Klink’s relaxed position in front of him.

Klink stands up and takes Hogan with him with a gentle tug. Hogan frames Klink's face in his hands and takes a step closer.

The last bit of sanity makes Klink's head spin and anxiety makes him lightheaded. "We can't, Robert," he stops to gather his thoughts, “We are under constant surveillance in one way or another. The smallest misstep and we'll be shot."

"I use the tunnel." Hogan says unfazed.

"And then? You know how often Burkhalter or Hochstetter show up unannounced and unexpected. Just think of Schultz and your men." Klink responds despairingly.

"Don't you think I thought that through a hundred times already?" Hogan caresses his cheek with his thumb.

Klink pauses and his face falters slightly, but he presses his lips together and glances down at Hogan's mouth. 

"And yet, you want this?"

Hogan leans down, closer, terribly slow. Klink's blood is surging, and his head is spinning with need, and he gasps in a breath. 

"I want you." Hogan whispers hoarsely.

The force of it, the energy, is like an electric shock to Klink. Heat gathers in his stomach and spreads out through his whole body. In an attempt at reassurance, Hogan traces his fingers along the hairline at the back of Klink’s neck. Klink sighs, his eyes closing almost completely.

"You're something else," Klink says softly for lack of better words.

"I know." Hogan answers and runs his thump lightly over Klink's cheekbone.

He wants to kiss him hard, pour every ounce of passion and frustration into it, he wants to run his hands through Hogan's unruly black hair and over every inch of his body. But Hogan moves so slow and deliberate, time seems to crawl. He wonders if that's how it is when Hogan really wants someone and not uses them for his causes. They are still too far apart, and Klink is in agony. His hips brush against Hogan's as he moves them closer together. He holds Hogan with a fervor that tastes of desperation, of too many years of longing and of too many things left unsaid.

Hogan closes the space between them, and their mouths are close to collide, desperate harsh breaths in the small space in between. Hogan trails his hand along Klink's neck up his scalp, runs it through the hair there. A hot shiver runs down Klink's spine. Klink whimpers and it turns swiftly into a needy groan when Hogan pushes a leg between his, steadily increasing the pressure. It's the sweetest torture he's ever experienced, and he cannot get enough. He slides his hand down Hogan's back, settles at his hip and slips his finger under Hogan's uniform shirt, caressing the smooth skin he finds there. His other hand sinks into Hogan's soft hair and twists it a little. Hogan moans and reflexively moves forward to press their lips together.

A violent thunder ripples through the air and shakes the grounds. The shaving soap tin falls with a loud bang on the floor tiles. The content of the bathroom cabinet rattles loudly. It must be an explosion, not far away. Klink holds onto Hogan who immediately tries to shelter him from any harm, as he has done so many times before.

Another explosion follows suit.

"Your men?" Klink asks breathlessly when it was quiet again.

Hogan buries his nose in his neck and groans. "Yes, the ammunition train you've provided the information for..." Klink hugs him tighter, well aware of the irony of the situation but glad that Hogan had the foresight to give them both an alibi.  
"Poor timing if ever there was one." Hogan noses his way up Klink's neck.

Another quieter yet decisive bang makes them jump again although it is just the door to Klink's quarters this time. Hogan sighs desperately.

"Kommandant Klink! Are you unharmed?" Schultz calls, out of breath. His distinctive heavy footsteps move in their direction.

Klink clears his throat.

"Yes, I am alright. Give me a moment to get decent, Schultz. Then we inspect the camp for damage."

"Yes, Sir."

As Hogan does not make a move, he gently disentangles himself. Every fiber in his body protests. He stares at Hogan for a long moment. Hogan does not mask, and he clearly sees the vulnerability, frustration and longing which matches his own. He reaches out, caresses Hogan's cheek and says quietly. "Take the tunnel. I try to keep the guards busy so your men can slip in unnoticed."

Hogan leans in, terribly close again, presses a soft kiss to Klink's cheek and whispers. “I’ll give you a sign, so you can make a surprise roll call to keep the record straight."

Klink presses his nose into Hogan's cheek for a second before he steps away from him. When he leaves the bathroom, he can see in his peripheral vision how Hogan leans frustrated against the wall. The lines of his body. His dishevelled dark hair. His eyes that seem black due to dilated pupils. He feels the phantom touch of Hogan's hands still on his body. His lips hovering over his. All he wants is right there and yet. He feels an odd peace settle over him.

He takes a deep breath, squares his shoulders, and slips into the role he presents to the world.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading :)


End file.
